Rough All Over
by Fabulous Sharpette
Summary: AU. Sharpay has it rough. Her family is poor and she has to work a job that barely pays minimum wage. But the one thing she wants more than anything is him, that boy. It's just a shame he's already taken. Eventual Troypay. Possible Ryella. First fic.
1. Chapter One

_This is my first HSM fic, be nice, please. :)_

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**Chapter One**  
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"I hate living like this."

Sharpay Evans threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in her arms. Normally she wouldn't want to sit around in her work uniform, but she'd had a long evening and just didn't have the energy to change into something more comfortable. Her brother, Ryan, looked up from the homework he was doing on his bed, and he studied her in silence for a moment or two.

After what felt like an eternity, she raised her head, side-glancing him. Some of her blond hair had come loose from the ponytail, curling around her face and falling over her eyes slightly. The dark circles under her eyes gave hints at the stress she was under, and her bottom lip was slightly cracked from all of the nervous biting she'd been doing.

"Me too," Ryan said quietly, lowering his gaze.

"You know," she continued, rolling onto her back and glaring daggers at the ceiling, "We aren't even _supposed_ to share a room. It's like...against the law or something because of how old we are."

"It's a stupid law anyway," Ryan said.

Sharpay rolled her eyes. "It's not like I hate being roommates with you," she said. "I just hate...being _poor_!"

She spit out the last word so harshly that Ryan winced. She pretended not to notice, chewing on her lower lip thoughtfully. The Evans family had definitely seen better times, that was for sure. Sharpay could remember when she and Ryan were little, they'd lived in a nice-sized house with a nice car -- _that_ Sharpay could've had anything she wanted. _This_ Sharpay could barely even afford to keep up with her cell phone bill.

Much less have her own convertible. She could see it now in her mind, pink of course, maybe with white detail -- it would be perfect. Of course, it would never happen. Especially not if she continued to work at Happy Burger for the rest of her life.

She groaned under her breath, throwing an arm over her eyes. Ever since she'd turned fifteen, she'd been working at that greasy fast food joint -- the paychecks were barely anything, not enough for her to have her own bank account, and most of it she just turned over to her parents so they'd be able to pay for groceries for the house. Ryan was a cashier at the gas station just down the street from their house, and that obviously wasn't a grand paying job.

Things were just rough all over.

"Did you do the History essay yet?" Ryan's voice brought her out of her self-pity.

She moved her arm, turning her head to look at him. "What?" she asked.

Ryan raised his eyebrows just slightly. "The essay," he said slowly, "You didn't forget about it, did you Shar? It's due tomorrow!"

She let out another noise in the back of her throat, a growl mixed with a moan. "Oh this is just what I need!" she exclaimed, before pushing herself up out of bed.

She all but flew across the room, picking up her backpack from where she'd dropped it when she'd gotten home from school, and Ryan watched her as she went to their shared desk. As she flopped down in the creaky chair, yanking her books out of the bag, she contemplated taking a shower first -- she could all but smell the fry oil lingering on her shirt.

"I'm almost done mine," Ryan said, "You can just paraphrase if you want."

"Yeah right," Sharpay scoffed. "Remember the last time I did that?"

Ryan fell silent, and Sharpay paused. With a sigh that moved her entire body, she pushed the chair back and stood up again.

"I'm gonna take a shower first," she said. "I'll just...wing it or something when I come back."

Ryan nodded, not saying anything, and Sharpay practically ran from the room. As she was moving down the hall of the one-level house they lived in, she pretended not to hear her parents arguing in their bedroom -- they always seemed to fight anymore, and it was usually about money, or their lack thereof.

Her shower took a little longer than she'd meant it to, and when she made it back to her and Ryan's room, he was already finished with his homework, and was currently flicking through a magazine. He gave her one of his small brotherly smiles when she entered, the one that made her smile no matter what, and she realized she was feeling a little better than she'd been before.

When she sat down at their desk again to start her essay, she was a little more relaxed, and it was definitely easier to begin writing.

"I'm going to bed," Ryan said a little while later.

Sharpay glanced at their clock, eyes widening at how late it really was, and then she looked over her shoulder. Ryan wasn't even bothering to climb beneath the covers, curling up on his side on top of them.

"Want the light off?" she asked.

"Nope," he answered simply with a yawn.

She watched him for a moment or two longer, then turned back around. Sometimes it seemed like Ryan was just happy for the sake of being happy -- she wished she could be as optimistic as he normally was. With a yawn of her own, Sharpay went back to writing about the Battle of Bunker Hill.

It took her a little over an hour to get a report that was _okay_ -- definitely not an A plus or anything, but it was passing. Shoving her things back into her bag -- quietly, of course -- she rubbed at her face with both hands as she stood up. Clicking off the light, she hopped into bed, pulling the quilt up to her chin and gazing at the dark ceiling.

Of course, _he_ came to mind. He always came to mind before she went to bed -- it was the only time of day when she couldn't busy herself with other things.

He being Troy Bolton of course. The most popular boy at school. Good-looking, smart, funny -- rich. He was East High's very own prince. His father was the head coach at the school, which meant Troy was all about sports. But he'd proved the year before that there was more than meets the eye, when he'd auditioned for one of the school musicals.

Enter _Gabriella Montez_. The luckiest girl at school, his girlfriend.

Sharpay frowned in the darkness. Gabriella was smart -- she probably wouldn't have had trouble writing about the stupid Battle of stupid Bunker Hill -- she had a wealthy mother -- so no working at Happy Burger for her. Sharpay hated being jealous of anyone, but she just couldn't help but envy the other girl.

Ryan let out a sleepy noise from beside her, and she turned to look at him again. All he did was roll over, mumbling something in his slumber. A small smile replaced Sharpay's frown, and she closed her eyes. She might not have had the latest in fashion, the coolest in technology, or the cutest of boyfriends, but at least she had her brother.

She could always work on the other things in the future.

Someday.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Ew, this sucks."

Sharpay side-glanced Ryan as they sat, side-by-side on the bus the next morning. He was currently cringing and holding his hand out in front of him, and she gasped at the wad of pink on the tips of his fingers. He'd apparently just put his hand in some chewed-up gum someone had left for them.

"Ugh," she said as he scraped the gum onto the back of the seat in front of them. "I loathe riding the bus."

"Oh come on," Ryan said, shrugging slightly. "It's not all bad. It's fun when we go over bumps."

Sharpay rolled her eyes, looking wryly at him. He gave her a little smile, then turned to the person behind them, asking them if they had hand sanitizer. She had to grin at that, and she went back to gazing out the window. She could just barely see a ghost of her reflection in the glass, and she couldn't help but stare at herself.

She thought she was pretty -- well, she worked hard to look it, at least. Her hair fell in soft waves about her shoulders, some of it pulled back with a small clip. She'd gone for just a little eye make-up this morning, and her dress, though from one of those generic department stores, looked like those she'd seen in the windows of the expensive shops in the city. Sometimes she got lucky and was able to find something cute in her price range.

But she always had a fear in the pit of her stomach that someone would notice and point it out. Her worst nightmare was everyone finding out she was poor -- she shuddered to think about it.

"You okay?" Ryan's voice interrupted her thoughts.

She realized she must've really shuddered, and she quickly nodded. "Fine," she said. "Just wish we could get to school already so the day could go by."

"You are so not a morning person," Ryan said.

"I don't see how _you_ are," she said.

He grinned, shrugging his shoulders and turning to face the front. Her gaze moved over the hat he was wearing -- he'd worn that one the day before. He shared her interest in fashion, you see, which meant he too had to worry about finding the cheapest models of the coolest clothes. He had a thing for hats though, and rarely did he find one he liked that he could afford.

She hated when he had to wear the same one twice in a row. At least wear a different one every day, she thought.

As the bus pulled to a stop at the curb outside of East High, Sharpay was quick to stand up. Ryan looked up at her, then followed suit -- she gave him a slight nudge to get out of the seat, and the two ended up being first to get off the bus. They made their way across the front courtyard, and Sharpay raised her chin some -- in middle school, she'd learned that attitude was _everything_. She might not have had money, but she had dignity.

"Do you work tonight?" Ryan asked her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his knock-off designer pants.

"Yes," she answered dryly, "Tonight and tomorrow night. I'm off for the weekend though -- told my boss I have a family thing."

Ryan opened his mouth to respond, but the two were rudely interrupted when one of the basketball players all but ripped them apart, running between them to catch up with his friends, and in the process, making Sharpay drop the books she'd been holding. She recognized the jock as Chad Danforth, and she glared icily at his retreating back.

"Jerk!" she spat out, despite the fact that she knew he couldn't hear her.

Her and Ryan both crouched to gather her fallen stuff, and suddenly there was a third person. Sharpay started to snap at them, tell them that she and Ryan didn't need their help, but they spoke and she realized it was _him_.

"Sorry about that," Troy Bolton -- _the_ Troy Bolton -- was neatly gathering some papers, stacking them for her. "Sometimes the team can get a little...well, wild." He grinned cheekily at his own joke about the Wildcats.

Sharpay surprised herself, and it was obvious by Ryan's expression that she surprised him too -- she giggled like a little girl at Troy's words. His grin was dazzling, and as he passed her her things, their fingers brushed just barely -- she almost melted.

"It happens," she said as the three of them straightened once more. "Just wish I could have that kind of energy this early."

Troy laughed, nodding -- he was laughing at _her_ joke -- and he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. "Definitely," he said. "Hey, did you write the History essay?"

Sharpay would have to figure out what was so special about the essay that everyone was asking about it. She nodded, making a slight face.

"Just barely," she answered.

He made his own face. "I didn't," he answered simply. "I might do it at lunch or something -- just didn't feel like writing it, you know?"

She nodded, but really she couldn't comprehend anything but the fact that Troy was carrying on a conversation with her. Almost as if he _wanted_ to talk to her. Oh, her diary was going to be on fire tonight.

Troy paused slightly, then smiled again. "I guess I'll see you later," he said. He raised his eyebrows, "Sharpay, right?"

The sound of her name leaving his lips made her feel ten kinds of fuzzy. She nodded again, wanting to slap herself for not being able to say anything.

"See you in homeroom," he said to her with a last grin, before slipping past her.

"Bye," she said, turning to watch him go.

Surely the heavens had opened up for Sharpay, she could hear bells and angels singing, and most of all she could hear Troy saying her name. She clutched her books to her chest, knowing she was wearing a goofy smile as she stared after him, but for the moment she didn't care. Until her brother had to snap her out of it.

"That was pathetic," he said conversationally.

Cheeks heating slightly, Sharpay turned to him with narrowed eyes. "Shut up," she said. "I can't help it."

Ryan gave a little grin. "I could tell," he said. "So do you write 'Mrs. Troy Bolton' on all your notebooks?"

"Shut up!" she repeated, turning on her heel and marching away.

Of course, he fell in step beside her right away. "Or is it 'Sharpay Bolton' that you write on the bathroom walls?" he asked playfully. When Sharpay didn't answer, a scowl still fixed on her face, Ryan nudged her with his elbow. "Come on Shar, I'm just messing."

She took a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh, and she slowed her pace some. "I know," she said quietly.

"Besides," Ryan said, "How can you _not_ like Troy? There isn't a girl in all of East High who can deny him. In fact, I'd think something was wrong if you _didn't_ act like that around him."

"Is this supposed to be making me feel better?" she asked.

"Not working?"

"Not at all."

"Sorry, sis."

Sharpay smiled, and then nodded her head towards the school doors. "Come on," she said.

The halls were buzzing with activity as the Evans siblings made their way to their lockers, and when Sharpay opened hers, she glanced in the small mirror she had hanging up. It was habit -- she liked looking at her reflection. Her eyes widened at what she saw though. Her hair clip had come loose slightly, most likely from Chad bumping so rudely into her, and some strands of hair were sticking up and looking atrocious.

"You didn't say anything?!" she gasped, turning to Ryan.

"What?" he asked.

She pointed to her hair. "Did I look like this when Troy was talking to me?" she demanded.

He studied her, then shrugged. "What's wrong with it?"

"Ugh!" she said, quickly pulling the clip out. She started digging in her purse for her hair brush, and she shook her head to herself. "He wasn't laughing at my joke," she moaned, "He was laughing at my hair!"

"Sharpay," Ryan said, "What are you talking about?"

She shook her head again, and set to work fixing her hair. She'd just gotten her hair perfect again, and as she was clipping it in place, the clip broke. Snapped right in half. Jaw dropping, she held it out in front of her and stared at it helplessly -- it'd been such a cute hair clip. Of course, she'd bought it at the dollar store, and you get what you pay for with stuff like that.

"I hate living like this!" she whispered fiercely, before turning and throwing the broken hair clip at the trash can across the hall. She didn't pay attention long enough to see if it made it in.

Shoulders dropping some, she took another deep breath, trying to calm herself, trying to stop the angry tears she could feel welling in her eyes. She could cry so easily when she got mad, and she hated it. Ryan was looking at her, that concerned brotherly look on his face, and she felt a little guilty.

"Your hair looks cuter when it's down anyway," he said quietly.

And despite how upset she was, she had to let out a small laugh. Breathing deeply, she went back to brushing her hair, and she tried to make it look as best as she could without a clip. It still didn't help how embarrassed she felt -- she couldn't stop thinking about how her hair had looked when Troy was talking to her.

Someone cleared their throat behind her, and both Sharpay and Ryan turned. It was Chad, looking very much like he'd rather be somewhere else. He glanced at Ryan, then met Sharpay's gaze.

"Look," he said, "I was in a hurry earlier -- I'm..._sorry_," it seemed like he had trouble with the apology.

"Did Troy make you say this?" Ryan asked, no qualms.

Chad's scowl was answer enough. Sharpay raised her chin again, squaring her shoulders.

"Maybe you should watch where you're going next time, Danforth," she said.

"Whatever, Princess," he said, before turning and disappearing down the hall, shaking his head.

Sharpay watched him, then turned to Ryan. "Why did you ask about Troy?" she questioned.

Ryan shrugged his shoulders. "Chad doesn't normally talk to us," he said. "Why should he want to apologize all of a sudden. I was just curious." He grinned, then said, "And doesn't it make you feel better, knowing that Troy wanted him to say that?"

She had to smile slightly at that. "Well, I suppose," she said.

Grinning, Ryan grabbed her arm. "Let's go."

They were two of the first to enter homeroom, and as they went to their seats, they both greeted their teacher, Ms. Darbus. Sharpay sat down, fighting the urge to mess with her hair, and Ryan held out one of his notebooks to her. In pencil, he'd scribbled, '_Mrs. Sharpay Bolton_' inside of a heart.

She flushed, starting to tell him to erase it, but he held his hands up defensively, doing it before she could. He gave her a grin, and she just _had_ to mirror it.

When Troy entered the room, Sharpay tried to pretend not to notice -- he was with Gabriella of course, one of his arms slung over her shoulders, and the jealousy stabbed Sharpay like a rusty knife. But when Troy caught sight of her, he smiled brightly and gave her a little wave.

That made her feel a little better, giving her a certain lightness to her heart.

Someday.


	2. Chapter Two

_Thanks so much to those that reviewed! I'm still getting my feet wet in this fandom, and I'm quite nervous to be posting this. Your kind words have definitely made me feel welcome. :)_

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**Chapter Two**  
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Science class became one of Sharpay's worst enemies, and she found she hated it more than ever.

And it was all because of a stupid shoe.

It was just like any other day, third period. Sharpay held her books against her chest, walking down the hall with her head high and her back straight -- she was thinking about how much she really did _not_ want to work that night, and beside her, Ryan was rambling about a school production that was coming up.

One of Sharpay's heels was busy deciding to break -- just as she'd turned to enter the science class room.

As her ankle twisted just slightly, pain shot up her leg and she let out a yelp before she could stop herself. Down she went to her knees, where she sat, gasping for air like a beached whale for a moment or two. A stunned Ryan stood beside her, before he came to life and crouched, immediately reaching out to help her.

"Sharpay!" someone had exclaimed, as if they were amazed.

She swatted at Ryan's hands lightly, shaking her head and murmuring something about needing a minute, but she instantly regretted his decision. As Ryan backed off a bit, none other than Gabriella Montez appeared in his place, looking very concerned, and Sharpay almost groaned out loud in disappointment -- _bless_ her _dear_ little heart.

"Oh no!" Gabriella said, catching sight of the broken heel. "Sharpay, what happened?"

"I fell," Sharpay said stiffly, fighting the urge to add a 'No duh' at the end of it.

Gabriella seemed not to notice the coldness of her answer, as she was too busy messing with Sharpay's shoe. Sharpay felt something well up inside her at the sight of the snapped heel, and a part of her wanted to cry -- those had been her only stylish-yet-casual heels, and she could definitely not afford to get another pair, a _good_ pair. Maybe super glue?

"Oh man," Gabriella said, gaze returning to Sharpay's -- along with the concern, there was doubt in her eyes as well. "We won't be able to fix this."

Ignoring the 'we' comment, Sharpay scoffed just slightly, shaking her head. "It's repairable," she said stubbornly.

"I don't know, Sharpay," Gabriella said.

Sharpay widened her eyes, looking to Ryan who shrugged his shoulders, looking just as confused as she felt. Before she could ask Gabriella what gave her the idea that this was okay however, the brunette was poking and prodding at her ankle.

"Does this hurt?" she asked.

"_No_," Sharpay said, pulling herself way from Gabriella and starting to climb to her feet. Ryan was there instantly, grabbing her at the elbow to help her. "It's fine, Gabriella."

"Do you have another pair?" the other girl asked, rising as well. "In your locker?"

_I would if I wasn't poor_, Sharpay thought dryly, shaking her head. Gabriella looked surprised, then glanced down at Sharpay's feet.

"You can't walk around with a broken heel all day," she said. "You could really hurt yourself."

Little Miss Do-Good. Little Miss Caring. Little Miss Perfect. Sharpay had a bitter taste in her mouth, but she hated that she knew Gabriella was right. So what did she do then?

"I have a pair of flats in my locker," Gabriella said. "Your feet don't look that much bigger or smaller than mine -- what size are you?"

Sharpay's brow furrowed. "Why are you doing this?" she asked.

Gabriella giggled, then playfully smacked at Sharpay's arm. "'Cause we're friends, silly," she said, before she turned and all but started to prance away.

Sharpay was left with a decision to make -- be proud, deal with the broken heel, or be helpless, take Gabriella's shoes. Her body decided against her grudge, and she found herself following Gabriella to her locker. As she and Ryan walked -- she limping just slightly of course -- she spoke quietly to him.

"Where did she get the impression that we were friends?" she asked out of the side of her mouth.

"Just go with it, sis," was his response. He suddenly stopped however, and jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, back at where a small group of students had started to form outside the classroom, looking curiously in their direction. "I'm going to class -- I'll convince the teacher not to write you up for being late."

"Ryan," Sharpay said, freezing in her tracks and spinning to her brother, "Don't leave me alone with her!"

"Just relax," he told her, before turning and going quickly back towards the science room.

As if on cue, the warning bell sounded, and Sharpay let out a 'hmmph' noise before turning and trotting after Gabriella. When they reached Gabriella's locker, Sharpay leaned against the one beside it, bending slightly to rub at her ankle, which still stung a little bit. Gabriella glanced at her as she dug around in the bottom of her locker.

"Do you want to go to the nurse?" she asked. "I'm sure we can get some ice for it."

Sharpay didn't answer right away, not finding it in her to be sarcastic and bitter towards the other girl, as it was obvious Gabriella took no offense. She shrugged one of her shoulders slightly, shaking her head.

"No," she said. "I'll be fine."

Moments later, Gabriella pulled out a pair of (surprisingly cute) white ballet flats, little bows on the fronts and everything. She held them out to Sharpay with her sweet smile, and fighting against her pride, Sharpay took them.

"Thanks," she said, begrudged.

Gabriella waited as Sharpay gingerly stepped out of her ruined shoes, and she quickly slipped on the flats. They actually seemed to be the perfect size, and they were quite comfortable. Gabriella noticed the nice fit.

"Perfect!" she said, before shutting her locker. "You can keep those as long as you want."

"I'll give them back tomorrow," Sharpay said, not wanting to be in Gabriella's debt for much longer.

Without another word, she turned and started back down the hallway. As she was entering the class room, she made sure her limp looked worse than it actually was -- it made it easier for the teacher to believe Ryan's explanation. After telling the teacher she really didn't need to see the nurse, she made her way to her seat beside Ryan.

"Cute shoes," he said in a low tone.

"Gag me with a spoon," Sharpay whispered, before slamming her bag on the table. She stuffed her old shoes into it as she pulled out her books, and she looked across the room at Gabriella.

"I don't know why you hate her so much," Ryan said.

"Don't tell me you _like_ her," Sharpay said.

"I don't see anything wrong with her," Ryan was suddenly stiff and awkward, hesitant, and Sharpay side-glanced him with her eyebrows raised. He turned away from her, shrugging, "What?"

"And I'm the pathetic one," Sharpay mumbled, before starting the morning drill.

She hadn't thought her day could get any worse. But she was wrong, of course. Oh, was she wrong.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Here."

A mop was shoved none-too-gently into Sharpay's arms as she'd entered the kitchen of Happy Burger. She looked at it like it was a foreign object -- she'd just got done Windexing all of the windows and she hadn't had a break all night.

"What's this for?" she asked her boss, a large and mean man with beady eyes who was often referred to as Boar by the workers.

He looked at her like she'd just spoken in Arabic. "Some kid spilled his soda by the play room," Boar told her, speaking in that slow, condescending way he always did. "You need to wipe it up before someone slips on it and sues us."

Sharpay opened her mouth to argue, but Boar would have none of that. He jabbed a meaty finger at the floor, where the old bucket with wheels sat, already full of soapy water.

"Get to it," he snapped, before she could utter a word, and he promptly marched away.

She glared after him for a moment or two, then with a groan of frustration, she took the mop and bucket out of the kitchen. As she got to work, attempting to mop up what seemed like three gallons of soda, she counted under her breath. It was something Ryan was always telling her to do when she got mad, something to calm herself down.

When she reached ten, she didn't feel any better, so she kept going. She was just reaching twenty-eight when her night got _even_ worse.

"Oh hey Sharpay," _that_ voice.

Stomach twisting, she looked up from what she was doing to find Troy and his father. The two were both dressed in gym shorts and loose-fitting tee shirts, faces flushed a bit as if they'd just come from playing basketball. Troy was also wearing one of his perfect smiles, the one that made Sharpay feel faint.

"Troy," she said, color blooming in her cheeks. She couldn't believe he was seeing her in her work uniform, holding a dirty mop.

"I didn't know you worked here," he said.

_Because I didn't want you to_, Sharpay thought, but didn't say anything. She didn't know what _to_ say. Coach Bolton glanced between them, before gesturing towards the counter, and the small line in front of the register.

"Same thing as usual?" he asked, and Troy nodded.

The coach then passed Sharpay a little nod -- she knew it was mostly for Troy's benefit, as she positively hated Coach Bolton, and she was sure he felt the same way about her. She'd spent the better half of freshman year getting on his bad side in gym class, and he'd ended up getting her in trouble a lot. As he walked away, Sharpay lowered her gaze. She started mopping again, feeling rather awkward, and wanting nothing more than to disappear.

"How's your ankle?"

She looked up at Troy, eyebrows raised. How did he know?

As if reading her mind, he said, "Gabriella told me," somewhat sheepishly.

Sharpay flushed again, this time partly do to anger. She could just imagine the two of them laughing about it. She gave a little sigh, dunking the end of the mop in the bucket a little harder than she should have.

"It's okay," she said.

There was a pause, then Troy asked, "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head quickly, hoping her forced smile was believable. "No," she said, "I'm just peachy."

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

His question startled her, and her head snapped up. He wasn't smiling anymore, but his eyes, though wide and questioning, were still full of their light.

"What?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know," he said, putting his hands on his hips. "Just a feeling I get. Almost like you find me annoying or something."

"No, no," Sharpay said a little too quickly. "I do like you -- I mean, I think you're a nice guy and all. Not that I have a crush on you or anything." She shut her mouth firmly, closing her eyes and feeling like the biggest idiot on the face of the planet.

"Really?" Troy asked.

She nodded, keeping her eyes closed.

"Then why do you seem like you don't want to talk to me?" there was a hint of playfulness to Troy's tone.

She spoke before she could think about what she was saying. "I guess I'm just embarrassed."

"What?" Troy's brow furrowed, nothing but seriousness now. "Why?"

Sharpay didn't think her cheeks could get any hotter -- they felt like they were on fire. She shook her head. "Nevermind," she said, starting to mop again.

Troy stared at her for what felt like hours, and she tried hard to pretend he wasn't there. She couldn't believe she was having a conversation with him, and she couldn't believe she'd already made herself out to be some kind of social dummy.

"Sharpay," he said, "Are you embarrassed because you have a job?" He gestured around them. "Because you're working here?"

She shrugged her shoulders, not knowing what to say. "It's nothing," she said.

"At least you _have_ a job," he said. "I applied here weeks ago; never got a call back."

Now it was Sharpay's brow that furrowed, and she looked up. "What?" she asked. "_You_ applied _here_?"

He nodded. "My parents think me getting a job'll put some responsibility in me," he answered. "Or something parental like that. Problem is, no one seems to want to hire me."

Sharpay blinked at him a few times, then shrugged a shoulder. "Are you still looking?" she asked slowly.

"Why?" he asked, smirking. "Would you put in a good word to the manager?"

And despite her embarrassment, her shame, she felt herself smiling. "Maybe," she said.

"Well, yeah then," he said, nodding. "Sure -- that would be awesome."

Of course it would be awesome. If Troy started working there, she would get to see him even more than she already did, she could get to know him. And best part of all, he'd be alone, no Gabriella Montez clinging to his arm. Sharpay had to fight to contain her excitement.

"Okay," she said, still smiling, "Just take another application. Fill it out and give it to me at school tomorrow.

"Really?" he was incredulous for some reason, as if he couldn't believe Sharpay was talking to _him_.

"Yeah," she said. "We just lost a couple of people anyway; we could definitely use more employees."

"Awesome," he said again, but before either of them could continue, Coach Bolton was calling for Troy. He'd already gotten their food, and was standing by the door, waiting patiently. Troy turned back to Sharpay, his eyes dancing. "Guess I should get going then," he said. "I'll see you in homeroom."

"Okay," she said, then gave a silly little wave. "Toodles."

He grinned, giving his own half-wave, and turned on his heel. On his way out the door, he grabbed an application from the front counter, and Sharpay watched through the windows as he and his father walked to their car. She was still smiling, her stomach bursting with butterflies, and her heart flying.

"Sharpay!" it was Boar.

She quickly started mopping again, saying nothing. She knew if she'd opened her mouth to apologize, she would've said something nasty to him -- and if she was going to try and get Troy a job, she'd have to watch herself around her boss from now on.

So her day had went from bad, to worse, to much better. Maybe things weren't _all_ bad all the time.


End file.
